Florida Calling
by saketini
Summary: England's visiting and irritated. America's hot and bothered in a limo. USUK/UKUS.


_Completely forgot to post this one here. It's...ah, yeah. I have writers block and that's my excuse._

* * *

England rolled over to look at the clock and a green number uncomfortably close to one am blinked back at him. He flopped over onto his back to watch the ceiling fan continue its rounds, clutching his cell phone in his palm. His sweaty palm to be more specific. America had left several hours ago for something apparently confidential, urgent, and work-related even though -

"It's our first vacation in months," he grumbled to the fan.

Making matters worse, it was the middle of August and America had left the remote for the air conditioning in some impossible to find location. His alien houseguest had apparently at some point broken the wall controls and England was stuck wilting under the fan in as little clothing as he could comfortably wear in someone else's home. Never mind that he and the "someone else" in question had been openly romantically involved for years and secretly sexually involved for longer. He rolled over onto his other side to glare at America's unused pillow, the sheet twisting itself around his legs with his fidgeting.

"You said you'd call by midnight," he kicked his feet bitterly and glared at the well-fluffed down, "it's nearly one am you lying shit. Practically six am for me you inconsid-"

The phone in his hand elected to flash and buzz spastically at just that moment. He jolted back in shock but watched approximately six rotations of the fan blades before answering.

"I was asleep," he groused.

"You're a lying ass so now I'm not going to apologize for being late. They wouldn't let us take our phones into the secure building so I had to leave it at the front desk."

England grumbled again and twisted onto his stomach, shifting over as he did so in order to land on the cooler part of the mattress.

"It's late," he protested into America's pillow.

"I know. I honestly am sorry... I was supposed to be done by eleven but there were some communication issues from the base we were calling. We couldn't confirm the line they were using was secure anymore and -"

"Yes, yes. Where are you now? Hurry up."

"Pushy," America's laugh rang across the line along with the solid thunk of a car door closing, "I just got into the limo. Half hour?"

"Too long."

"Miss me?"

"No. It's too hot and you hid the bloody remote for the air conditioner."

America only laughed more in response.

"Was it on purpose?"

"No! Of course not, don't be silly. Did you check the nightstand drawers?"

"Yes, I checked the fucking drawers!"

"I swear that's where I left it..."

"Well it's not _there, _America."

"I know, I know. The cleaning people must have put it away somewhere."

"Well?"

"Your loss, I guess. The limo has air conditioning."

England huffed and kicked more violently at the quilts he had bunched up until they fell off the end of the bed. He gave up when he realized that the lone remaining sheet had firmly knotted itself around his ankle.

"You have a half hour to get back here and fix this and I'm timing you."

"Haha, okay, will do. Did you turn the ceiling fans on?"

"Yes."

"Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Mine?"

"Yes? You said it was ours?" he frowned slightly at the open door that faced the guest bedroom across the hall.

"It is! I'm asking because you get a nice breeze off the ocean at night if you open the window above the headboard. The doors to the patio don't face the right way to let enough air in."

England hummed slightly in acknowledgement, tugging himself up by one arm to grab at the latch while keeping the phone against his ear. With a click and a rather violent shove the window popped open, allowing the slightly cooler air to breeze in. England sighed into it, pushing his fringe off his forehead.

"Better?"

He looked back down at the pillow from where he remained balanced on his knees.

"Hardly," he told it.

"I'm sorry," he could hear the smile in America's voice through the phone, "I'll see if I can find it when I get back. If it wasn't the cleaners I know Tony likes to take apart remotes and controllers. Had to buy all new controllers for my PS4 two days after I bought the damn thing..."

"Can I take my trousers off?"

"_What?_"

England could hear another thunk along with the distinct shuffle of falling papers as America presumably dropped his briefcase onto the car floor.

"It's hot and I didn't feel right just stripping in someone else's home without them around."

"Ah! Uh, sure. Go for it. I mean, you don't have to ask... We're practically..."

"Of course," he smiled, "Just didn't see any reason to be rude about it."

England shimmied down to tug them off and remove the persistent sheet, phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. He lay back down on the cooler side of the bed, moving the phone back between America's pillow and his ear. The pillow smelled faintly of citrus scented shampoo.

"Just to clarify," America mumbled, "You're still wearing everything else, right?"

"I took off my socks and shoes earlier."

"_England..."_

He laughed happily before responding, "You're a bit of a pervert, you know."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Valid point, I suppose. I forgot to bring a shirt to sleep in so I stole one of your old undershirts for your uniforms. But I've still got that and my underwear on."

"Oh...okay."

"Are you still wearing your suit?"

"Yeah."

"The purple tie I picked out?"

"Yeah..."

"Did it match that new jacket of yours like I told you it would?"

"...yeah."

"Should I take my shirt off?"

"Um..." he could hear the other fidgeting in his seat, "I actually, uh, you know..."

"Hmm?"

"...like you wearing my shirt. You can keep it..."

"Hmm, I just might. It's a little big though," he tugged at the hem while noting the warmth building below his stomach, "Do you have the window closed between you and the driver?"

He ran his fingers under the shirt to draw idle circles on his damp skin while he listened to America frantically turn his head and sigh in relief when he confirmed the window was indeed shut and blacked out.

"You could've asked me that earlier."

"You're the one who started this, you should have looked."

"It wasn't on purpose! I just sorta-"

"Spit things out, I know. How about the underwear? These are mine, not yours," he slipped his fingers down and under the elastic of the waistband, rubbing at his hipbone eyeing the noticeable bulge in the fabric, "it's just really hot, honest."

"Liar," America huffed, "but um... I guess you should take them off if you're uncomfortable."

"I am, but are you sure? Seems a little rude to lie around in someone else's bed in just their shirt."

The elastic snapped as he pulled his fingers back up along his stomach. Exhaling softly through his mouth, he spun his index finger around his navel before dragging it along his ribs and up his side, his skin tingling lightly from sensitivity. He could hear America's answering breathing on the other end of the line.

"Do you want me to take them off, love?"

"...take them off," the other's accent had apparently drifted south with his thoughts, tugging his vowels and pinching his consonants.

"Now who's pushy?"

England slid his hand down and lifted his hips to comply anyway. He kicked off the offending article of clothing so it could join the comforter on the floor and rolled over onto his stomach to prevent his hands from wandering too low too soon.

"Better yet?" America asked.

"Slightly," he tried to ignore what the cool cotton was doing to him as it rubbed against his cock before he replied, "Still hot, dearest."

"Hmm... I am sorry, you know," the other drawled, "I'll be home in about twenty minutes now. I'll be able to fix it up right quick when I get back."

"I _told_ you to hurry up."

"Well what would you do if I was there now?"

"Well obviously, dearest, I'd fuck you into this mattress for being late. I found the lube when I was looking for the remote."

"_Ah." _

He was shifting his hips from side to side against the sheets, enjoying the friction before allowing himself to touch with his hands.

"Can you be detailed or are you afraid the driver might be able to hear you?"

"Might be able to hear."

"Okay," he sighed happily as he pressed slowly yet firmly down with his hips, curling his toes into the fitted sheet that remained on the bed before pulling back to expose his skin to the slowly cooling air.

"Tell me what you're doing?" his American breathed back into the receiver.

"Enjoying your thread count," he purred back, "Loosen your tie. Should I touch?"

He heard the shifting of the phone along the line as America pressed it between his ear and shoulder to tug at the silk with his fingers.

"What else can you do?"

"I can touch other places," he kept his cock arched off the bed as he ran his free fingers around his navel once more.

His new shirt began to bunch up along the small of his back with his curve, the coarser cotton rubbing against his nipples from where he had his chest pressed against the bed. He tilted his head slightly to press his nose closer to the pillow, breathing in the scent and sighing deeply so the other could hear.

"Um, how are you sitting?"

"Lying on my stomach. Your pillow smells like you."

"Roll over. I like you that way."

He smiled and rolled onto his back, the shirt riding higher with his fidgeting and exposing most of his chest.

"Now should I touch?"

"...how about those other places?" the other suggested in a low drawl.

"I like that idea," he slid two fingers from his free hand into his mouth and moaned lightly between them so the other could hear what he was doing.

Removing his fingers he ran them back down to his stomach and up towards an exposed nipple, the still rotating fan cooling the wet skin and causing it to goose bump beneath his touch.

"_Hahh,"_ he sighed as he lightly spun his fingers in sync with the fan, "why are these so damned sensitive anyway?"

The other laughed along the line before responding.

"I don't know but I like how I know what you're talking about. I know you're making a cute face too."

"Shut it," he hissed back before pinching and twisting, arching his back and moaning loudly while keeping his head pressed firmly to the phone caught between his ear and the pillow.

"Maybe lower now," his American suggested again, "but slow?"

He flopped back down onto the bed abruptly as he let go and refocused his eyes on the fan, using its rotations as a guide to swirl his hand slowly down over his stomach and rest gently just above the base of his cock.

"Now?"

"Slowly."

He hummed gently in response and ran his index finger from base to tip, inhaling sharply as he rested it along the slit.

"How's it feel?"

"Hot, wet," he continued the slow swirling motions along the head, spreading the precum around the tip before sliding his finger back down along the vein. He sighed in satisfaction and turned his head to bury his nose in the other's pillow.

"Hurry _up_, love," he groaned gently into it and listened to the other's breathing quicken.

He pressed his thumb firmly along the slit and rubbed, gently clasping his other fingers around the shaft before stroking downward and making himself gasp.

"Hngh," he heard the other through the phone, "I don't think he can go any faster without breaking any traffic laws... I'll be there really soon though. Um...what would you want me doing if I were there?"

"Watching."

He took his other hand, trusting the pillow to hold the phone, and licked his fingers while continuing to stroke his cock. Pitching the concept of slow out the window, he used the moistened fingers to pinch at his other nipple and arched further as he tugged his hand up and down faster, dragging a finger firmly along the vein with each stroke.

"Am.._hah_."

The other was panting into the phone and obviously struggling to remain professional.

"Shit. How much time do I have?"

He tried to ask "what?" but it came out more like a breathless "hah?" and he groaned before rolling his face further into the pillow.

"You said you were timing me! A half hour!"

"For fuck's sake," he gasped an awkward laugh between strokes, "how should I know? I'm a bit...a bit distracted."

"I'm almost there, wait for me!"

"I'm.._hgnh_...I'm almost there..."

"...Please?"

"God I hate you, fine," he groaned loudly once more, "Distract me, you stupid late prat."

He pitched back down onto the bed as he grabbed the base of his cock and stilled his hand, "Talk about your boring meeting or something!"

"It was confidential! I can't!"

"Special Relationship! Be vague or something! If it doesn't have anything to do with your cock, mouth, or stupid green bastards who hid air conditioning remotes you'd better distract me with it!"

"Ah, well, um...we were talking about -"

"And stop it with that bloody accent!"

"Shit," America tried to smooth out the drawl but it only made him stutter and bumble, "We were, um, talking about our new naval strategy in the Pacific. Remember island hopping? New, um, ideas for defending, taking, and reclaiming islands -"

England sighed heavily and shoved his eyes shut.

"Islands? Really, dearest?"

"What? Oh, shit. Haha... How the hell did you turn that into innuendo?" he laughed incredulously, "You really are a giant pervert."

"One that you've been sleeping with since after the first World War and one that will _not _be waiting for you tonight."

"Wait!" the other interjected before he could so much as twitch his fingers, "I'm in the driveway now."

He clenched his eyes shut as he heard the car door thunk once more along the line before the call was ended. Through the open window he could hear an American-accented "_Thanks, dude!_" and hurried running along tile.

"Don't break down the door again," he muttered.

A jingle, click, and a slam confirmed the other did as was asked without knowing it. More hurried running noises alerted him to when he should brace for impact as the other lunged excitedly on top of him.

"Missed you!" was his final warning before the American pressed his lips firmly to his own and pulled him up into his lap.

He would deny it vehemently, but he was smiling when the other ran his tongue along his lips and he opened his mouth at the silent request. Humming gently, he ran his own tongue along the other's Hollywood-perfect teeth and felt a hand slide between them to grab at his still hardened cock. The Englishman only thought to worry about the other's suit after a few well-timed strokes had him spilling onto it.

"_Oh! _I'm sorry, I -"

"Nah, it's fine. It should come out," the other kissed him gently on the temple, "Besides, totally owed you for making you wait."

"The driver?"

"Thinks I'm insane. Probably saw the boner."

England laughed again before grabbing the other's face in his hands and pulling him back onto the bed for another kiss.

"If you aren't going to fix the air conditioning you'd better strip down to your dog tags, dearest."

* * *

_Tony hid that shit on purpose. What a dick._

_...Thanks, Tony._

_Completely irrelevant, but I imagined they were in Florida and that America had been in a meeting attempting to call a team in Okinawa. Including that in the story would have required me writing a plot though so um, no thanks._


End file.
